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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27998058">and the lights above us</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bean_me_up/pseuds/bean_me_up'>bean_me_up</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>12 Days of Malex 2020, Alternate Universe, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Malex Secret Santa 2020, Romance, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, as much holiday aesthetic as I could possibly fit into a fic, but mostly romance, gentle amounts of angst, holiday fluff, icing is meant for cookies but malex have other ideas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:01:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,989</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27998058</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bean_me_up/pseuds/bean_me_up</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fuck it, he promised Liz and Maria he'd give it a shot, so he goes for it, leaning in just as Michael does, meeting in the middle through the truck's open window in a gentle kiss, warm and sweet and laced with the dregs of cinnamon spice.  It's over far too soon for Alex's liking, but it feels a bit like a promise.  Michael looks equally dazed as he settles back in the driver's seat.</p>
<p>"You'll call me?" Alex needs the verbal confirmation.  Doesn't want this to end.</p>
<p>"After a kiss like that? Of course I'll call you."  Michael scoffs just a little as he starts up the truck again.  "Good night, Alex."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Michael Guerin/Alex Manes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>94</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>12 Days Of Malex 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>and the lights above us</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skittery/gifts">margosfairyeye (Skittery)</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy Holidays! This was so much fun to write and I hope you enjoy it too &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It should maybe be a little concerning that one of Alex's favorite holiday events involves being yelled at by impatient tourists as he ladles piping hot cocoa into paper cups, but tradition is tradition, and he's happy to be here.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Every year, Roswell sets up a huge Christmas tree in the center of the town square, and every year, the Crashdown sets up a little booth as part of the festivities, selling churros and hot chocolate to the tourists and townies who come to the tree lighting.  Between the middle school's choir performing, the local ballet company showing up in full <em> Nutcracker </em> costume, and the mini-trees decorated by various community organizations, the tree lighting is a <em> central </em> part of the Roswell holiday experience.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Alex, we're running low on cups, can you handle the cash register while I go get more? Thanks!" Liz is off before he can even say a word.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maria grins and steals the ladle from his hand.  "I got two hands. I can grab churros and pour cocoa at the same time.  Handle the customers, will you?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He rolls his eyes and gently hip-checks her as he pulls off his gloves and takes the single turn-and-step required to be at the front of the booth.  He grabs a rag and starts wiping the cinnamon sugar off the table when a man steps up, his face mostly obscured by a black cowboy hat tilted low.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Two churros please, and two cups of hot chocolate."  His voice is a low drawl, and Alex hasn't felt this <em> curious </em>about another man in a long while.  He wants him to tilt the hat back a little, wants to see more than the ghost of sandy curls and the quirk of a smirking mouth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex smiles, "Coming right u--"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Make that <em> one </em> hot chocolate, thank you, not all of us have the sweet tooth of a toddler."  A blonde woman with a perky high ponytail and immaculate cranberry-colored lipstick elbows Michael out of the way to interject, and Alex feels his smile fall.  Of course, why <em> would </em> he let his brain go to those places in <em> Roswell </em> of all places.  This is the first time in years he's been home for the holidays, but no place changes <em> that </em> much.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He sighs as Maria hands him two churros wrapped in wax paper, the warm cinnamon-sugar smell wafting up from the pastries.  He holds them out to the couple in front of him, but the woman turns and walks away, heeled boots clicking against cobblestone.  "Pay for mine, will you, Michael?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The man rummages around in his pockets and hands Alex a crumpled ten dollar bill.  "Sorry about my sister," he says with a low chuckle.  "Keep the change."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> Oh. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He doesn't have time to think too hard about this because Liz comes skidding back into the booth.  "I'm back!" She sounds out of breath, stacking cups on the back table.  "How'd it go while I was gone?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maria answers before he can.  "Well, Alex here was eyeing this cowboy up and down.  And the cowboy was giving as good as he got."  She nudges Alex with a wink, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.  "You should've written your number on the cup."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex leans against her a little.  "It's not that easy and you know it."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Liz tears a piece off the top of the churro and shoves it at Alex's face until he relents and opens his mouth.  "<em> Plenty </em>of people who aren't soulmates date and even get married.  Max and I don't have soulmarks either!  Next time, just go for it."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He chews the warm pastry thoughtfully, the spiced sweetness delicious on his tongue.  "<em> Fine.  </em>Next time a handsome cowboy comes up to the booth, I'll write my number on his cup of hot chocolate."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I'll help you keep an eye out," Maria offers, helpfully.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex steals another piece of churro from Liz.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p>The blonde lady comes back a second time for hot chocolate, late in the day, just as the sun is setting and Liz is directing them as they pack up, but Handsome Cowboy isn’t with her.  Just his luck.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Need a ride, Alex?" Maria offers as she picks up the last box to carry to her truck.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Nah," he says.  "I want to walk, it's a nice night."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She hugs him with her free hand and then they part, Alex walking back in the direction of his house.  It's a beautiful night, the weather dancing on the edge between chilly and cold, festive lights sparkling in the darkness.  Faint Christmas music plays from a nearby restaurant, but it's soon drowned out by the rumbling of a truck engine.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Hey! You're Liz's friend, right? From the Crashdown booth? Need a ride? It's cold out."  Alex simply cannot believe it.  Handsome cowboy from earlier is leaning out the window of a beaten up pick up truck.  His hat's off and his curly hair is in full view.  Alex wants to run his hands through it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I'm a little out of the way," he calls back.  This is a bad idea.  Getting into a car with a stranger is a <em> bad idea, </em> even if he does seem to know Liz.  But, honestly, <em> fuck it. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I don't mind."  Handsome Cowboy leans over to pop open the passenger door.  "Get in."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex smiles and slides in.  He sticks his hand out.  "Alex."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Michael."  Their hands linger for a moment longer than strictly necessary, but Alex has never been lucky in love, and he's not about to start believing now.  "So how do you know Liz?" Michael asks as he throws the truck in gear and pulls into the street.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"We've known each other since grade school, but I only moved back to Roswell a couple months ago.  How do you know her?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"She's dating my brother.  Here."  Michael pulls his phone out of his back pocket and tosses it to Alex.  It's an older model, the screen cracked, and Alex stares dumbly at it.  "Put in your address."  Michael glances over and smirks at Alex's expression.  "But if you wanna give me your number. . ."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex chokes on absolutely nothing and nearly drops the phone as he coughs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Or not!" Michael hastens to add.  "No pressure, this can just be a ride home."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"No!" Alex nearly shouts, wincing as Michael visibly startles.  "No, I want to give you my number.  I just didn't. . ."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Michael smirks.  "So.  Where am I takin' you?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex types in his address in the maps app and hands the phone back to Michael.  "Thanks for the ride."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Figured it's pretty cold out."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Michael cranks the heat up, and Alex holds his cold fingers in front of the vent.  "Yeah.  Got cold fast."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He feels something bump against his wrist, and turns to see Michael holding out a Crashdown cup to him.  "Iz drank all of my hot chocolate so I made her get me a new one.  It's still warm."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex wraps his fingers around the cups and inhales the patented blend of cocoa and spices that Arturo will never tell a soul the recipe for.  He takes a sip, tries not to think about how the cup is half full, which means Michael's lips have been locked over the same spot in the lid.  Alex takes a long pull then hands the cup back to Michael, taking a sip.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Michael's glance drops briefly to his mouth as he licks a stray drop of chocolate off his lips.  Their fingers meet around the cup as they carefully hand off the warm beverage in the dim light of the truck's cabin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex holds his breath as Michael takes a sip before handing the cup back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They play their game of back-and-forth until they're pulling up to Alex's house, and Alex feels more and more flustered every time their hands brush.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Thanks!" He's hopping out of the cab as soon as Michael pulls the brakes, feeling inexplicably out of breath from sitting still and drinking hot chocolate.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Good night!" Michael's tone's gone a little flat, like he's disappointed.  He pulls the truck into gear just as realization dawns on Alex.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Michael, wait!"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He immediately puts the truck back into park.  "What?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex hurries to the driver side door.  "Hand me your phone, I forgot to give you my number."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Michael grins as he passes it through the open window.  Their faces are inches apart as Alex hands it back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> Fuck it, </em>he promised Liz and Maria he'd give it a shot, so he goes for it, leaning in just as Michael does, meeting in the middle through the truck's open window in a gentle kiss, warm and sweet and laced with the dregs of cinnamon spice.  It's over far too soon for Alex's liking, but it feels a bit like a promise.  Michael looks equally dazed as he settles back in the driver's seat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You'll call me?" Alex needs the verbal confirmation.  Doesn't want this to end.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"After a kiss like that? Of course I'll call you."  Michael scoffs just a little as he starts up the truck again.  "Good night, Alex."</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Michael makes good on his promise the next morning.  They chat for a bit as Michael works, fixing someone's busted engine.  The conversation is easy and Michael's voice is warm and Alex just really, <em> really </em>wants to see him again.  They make plans to go to Maria's food drive night at the Wild Pony together the day after the next, and Alex frets until then, going so far as to call Liz for an opinion on his outfit for the date.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It's hard to see over the overstuffed bag of canned and dry food donations Maria was accepting as 'cover' for tonight's event, so he almost bumps into Michael, who steadies him with a hand on his waist and a low "Easy there."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once they're inside the Pony, Michael and Alex find a seat at one of the booths, taking turns buying rounds of drinks.  Alex thinks he could lose himself in Michael's honey brown eyes.  He finds himself noting everything about that handsome face, the ways his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his mouth turns up at the ends when he's amused, the wild way his curls bounce when he's getting enthusiastic in his storytelling.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And he does actually get a little lost, because before he knows it, the Pony's empty save for Maria, Liz, and Max.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maria brings him back to reality by dropping a rag on the table between him and Michael.  "You know the rules, Alex, anyone who's here after closing--"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Has to help clean, yeah I know."  Alex grumbles a little as he shuffles out of the cozy nook he'd been sharing with Michael and over to a random table to start cleaning.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I'll throw in my peppermint cocoa as a thank you!" Maria calls out as she heads to the backroom.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex jumps at the feeling of a warm hand on the small of his back, but relaxes when he hears Michael's voice in his ear.  "Don't worry, I'll help."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex is absolutely red in the face by the time he and Michael finish wiping down their half of the tables, but Michael dances out of reach as soon as the rag returns to the bucket, making a beeline for the scratched old acoustic guitar Maria had left propped against the wall from the last open mic night.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Everyone gathers around him as he perches on a barstool and starts tuning.  Maria slips around to the front of the bar, handing out steaming mugs of something <em> very </em> alcoholic.  Michael looks up, winks once at Alex, then starts playing one of the jaunty Christmas carols that every commercial seemed to use around this time of year.  Liz starts singing first, loud and definitively tipsy, and Maria joins in next, but Michael's face smiles and softens in a way that <em> does </em>something to Alex when he finally starts singing, too.  It's warm in the Pony, the fairly lights Maria had strung up for the holidays tossing flecks of light onto Michael's face and hair as he plays, and it's all Alex can do to hold himself back from shoving the guitar out of Michael's hands and kissing him senseless instead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He settles for leaning against Michael's shoulder, feeling the gentle heat of the passive contact as he sings along to Michael's music.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>It's just starting to snow the next time Alex meets Michael.  It's been a few days since they last saw each other and Alex sighs into the hug Michael greets him with, running his gloved hands up and down the waterproof coat Michael's wearing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Shall we?"  Michael gestures out at the market, bustling crowds under the sparkling lighting and hanging decorations, browsing stalls and buying food.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"One sec," Alex says, running a hand down Michael's arm to hold his hand.  He grins.  "Now I'm ready."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Michael leans in to kiss the grin off his lips, then tugs his hand to walk into the market.  The atmosphere feels a little bit like magic, that indescribable warmth and comfort and happiness that’s supposed to surround the holiday season turned up to 11.  Alex soaks it all up, the gentle squeeze of Michael's hand, the soft music playing over the speakers, the snowflakes floating down but melting before they hit the ground, the smell of eggnog and mulled wine in the air.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex buys them matching novelty mugs of mulled wine because he wants to watch Michael sip out of a glittery mug shaped like an ornament.  The spicy heat of the drink spreads from his tongue to his toes as he and Michael walk through the market, browsing stalls selling candles and knitted scarves and woven blankets.  He jerks to a stop when Michael plants his feet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Look up, Alex."  Alex follows Michael's finger up to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging off the string lights above them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Mistletoe."  He grins.  "Guess I have to kiss you."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Michael leans in, "Tradition's tradition."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Their kiss turns from warm to heated, quickly, and Alex pulls back, breathless.  "Do you wanna get out of here?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Your place or mine?"</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>"I have to tell you something." </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Michael rolls onto his side to look at Alex.  He doesn't like seeing the anxiety there, the bitten lip and the tension around his eyes.  No, Michael much preferred Alex's rolodex of expressions from last night, sweaty and uninhibited and <em> super fucking hot.  </em>But clearly Alex has something else on his mind, so Michael keeps to his side of the bed, though he reaches out a soft hand to run up and down Alex's arm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"What is it?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"You might have noticed this last night.  Or maybe you didn't.  I mean, we got pretty--"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Alex, what's wrong?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I don't have a soulmark."</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> Oh. </em> Michael can feel the tension in his chest ease, just a little bit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I don't have one either.  It doesn't mean anything."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex sits up, abruptly.  "Of <em> course </em> it does.  Your soulmark is supposed to bind you to your soulmate, your <em> forever </em> person, and <em> I don't have one." </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Maybe it was on your le--"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"It wasn't."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Michael sighs and wriggles closer to Alex.  "Look, the way I see it, not having a soulmark means we have the freedom to choose who we want to be with.  And, honestly, this, right here? Feels pretty damn cosmic to me, screw colorful couple's tattoos."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex closes his eyes, wanting nothing more than to believe Michael.  "You really think so?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Absolutely."  Michael pulls Alex in with a hand around his waist, closes the gap between them and tries to pour <em> everything </em>he's saying into a kiss.  Somewhere between tongues and teeth and touch and Alex flipping them over to pin Michael gently to the pillows, they both let thoughts of fate rest for another day.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p>"Alex!"  Michael waves enthusiastically at him as he walks over to the bench Alex had scouted, one that provided a good view of the whole outdoor skating rink.  Back in high school, he and Liz and Maria always used to come down here for a couple of hours of slipping and falling and laughing under the stars and fairy lights.  Years of military service and one prosthetic leg later, he’s come along to watch and soak in the atmosphere, even if skating isn’t quite in the cards for him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Michael!" Alex pulls him down by the scarf to kiss him thoroughly.  "What are you doing here?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Isobel demanded I help her fix the sound system.  Can't you hear <em> Jingle Bells </em>playing with perfect clarity now?  An hour ago it sounded like Satan had possessed the AV system."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Wanna go for a walk? Liz and Maria have another hour's rental left on their skates."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Curfew in an hour? I don't know man. . ."  Michael laughs, dancing out of reach of Alex's hands trying to grab at him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I have candy canes."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I believe I showed my <em> full </em>appreciation for your candy ca--"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex shuts him up by shoving one of his mini candy canes into his mouth, wrapper and all.  Michael pouts as he unwraps the sweet and sticks one end in his mouth.  "Lead the way."</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>It's a lovely night, the late December chill making their breaths fog in the air.  Every home and business in this neighborhood has gone all out in decorating, and Alex and Michael walk around, debating the merits of icicle versus rope lighting.  They're stopped at a house, looking at light-up reindeer bob their heads up and down when Michael hears and <em> crack </em>and looks up to see a plastic Santa tumbling off his roof and nearly onto Alex.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He doesn't have time to think, just to <em> act, </em> so he shoves Alex out of the way while hoping against hope that he's fast enough.  He does <em> not </em>count on thoughtlessly flinging his telekinesis at the problem, stopping the plastic Santa in his rapid descent, but when Alex freezes, wide horrified eyes trained on something above him, he feels his chest constrict.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Alex, I can explain."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex shakes his head, backing away.  "You -- you're--"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He turns and walks away, moving as quickly as he can, until he's out of Michael's eyeline.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The <em> power </em> is everything he remembers being afraid of as a young child, because Jesse Manes' campfire ghost stories never talked about spooks and spectres.  They always centered around creatures who looked like people, but had frightening <em> murderous </em>powers.  Jim had stopped him from sharing too many, usually with Alex or Kyle or both tucked into his side, jumping at shadows, but Jesse liked to tell those stories even without the warm glow of a campfire.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He can't breathe.  He somehow manages to get his shaky hands to cooperate long enough to call a ride home, but once he sinks onto his own couch, his mind won't <em> stop.  </em> How could <em> Michael, </em> the beautiful, kind man who held his hand with such ease, who looked for mistletoe just for an excuse to kiss him, who went out of his way to make Alex feel <em> special </em> , be the kind of <em> monster </em>he'd been taught to look out for.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>None of it makes sense.  And the more Alex thinks about it, the more he wants to say <em> fuck you </em>to his father and his stories, to the universe for not giving them a sign that they were meant to be, to every doubt he has right now, because through it all, all Alex wants is for Michael to hold him and kiss his temple and make saucy comments that have Alex rolling his eyes and leaning in for a kiss at the same time.</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Roswell has <em> one </em>florist.  Everyone who needs flowers goes to her, and she's been doing this for years, bustling about the little shop putting together bouquets and corsages for every "Thank you" and "I'm sorry" and "Congratulations," not to mention the high school's prom and every wedding in town.  Michael ends up there early, hoping to beat the rush.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"What kind of plant makes a good hostess gift for my sister?"  Michael asks out loud.  "I kind of want to get her a little cactus.  I think she'd bond with it."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"<em> No." </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>"But you don't kn--"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She's spared his next, undoubtedly stupid question when a harried looking man comes in.  "I need a bouquet."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"This is a florist, dear, we're happy to help.  What's the occasion?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"My boyfr-- This guy I was--"  The man sighs like the weight of the world is on his shoulders.  "I fucked up, and I need to apologize.  And I need flowers."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Alex?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Michael?"</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>They end up shooed out of the flower shop when she realizes they're going to stare at each other like idiots and not actually buy anything.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I'm so sorry."  Alex lets the words rush out.  "I shouldn't have run away, but I got scared."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Michael runs a hand through his hair, making his curls stand up.  "That wasn't how I wanted you to find out.  But you were in danger and --"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex steps closer, stills so that Michael can move away if he wants, then closes the gap between them and wraps him in a hug.  "Thank you."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Look, Alex, I know I don't have your soulmark, and I don't even know if I <em> could </em> have a soulmark, or if only humans get those, but I want this.  I want <em> you." </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I want this too.  You're like this light, this <em> warmth </em>and I can't look away from you.  And even that night when I ran away, all I could think about was how much I wanted you there with me."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Michael tugs Alex in by his lapels and kisses him, hard.  Alex returns with equal fervor, pulling away just enough to ask, "Your place, this time?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Michael makes them both eggnog, heating up mugfuls of the stuff from his oversized carton and liberally applying extra cinnamon to it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The eggnog cools on the counter when Michael licks a stray drop off his thumb and Alex decides that the holiday cheer can <em> wait. </em></p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>"Alex, <em> how much food coloring is that?" </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Michael sounds absolutely <em> horrified </em> but Alex thinks the shade of green he's created is rather nice.  He swipes a bit from the bowl and walks over to Michael, smearing it on his cheek, then licking it off.  This close, Alex can <em> hear </em> Michael breathe just a little harder, and he is <em> delighted. </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I dunno," Michael says with a smirk that promises wicked things.  "I kinda like the blue better."  Blue gets smeared along Alex's collarbone and promptly cleaned off by Michael's <em> very </em>talented mouth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"That icing," Alex says archly, pecking a quick kiss to Michael's lips then stepping away to pick up a piping bag with the green frosting and starting in on a cookie, "is meant for the cookies."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Oh yeah?"  Michael is standing so close behind him he's really having trouble thinking clearly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex puts the icing down.  "Actually I have a better plan."  He reaches forward to tug Michael's shirt off over his head, then reaches for the piping bag.  "I don't need a soulmark to know how much I love you.  But I think I can do the universe one better."  He starts drawing a design over Michael's heart, squinting his eyes and sticking out his tongue in concentration.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Don't see. . . <em> how </em>. . .exactly" Michael has trouble forming words in his mind, not when all of Alex's attention is focused on a little design that looks like a UFO over his heart.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Because I wouldn't be able to do <em> this </em> with a tattoo." Alex leans forward and <em> licks </em>off the icing in one stroke, ghosting his lips over the faint blue stain the food coloring left behind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Michael pins Alex against the counter, kissing him hard, then reaches behind him for the blue frosting bag.  "My turn."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alex pulls him in for another kiss.  "I love you."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I love you too."</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="https://bean-me-up.tumblr.com/">Say hello on tumblr @bean-me-up &lt;3</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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